Archive of Our Own

Today was your fourth day shift since being forcibly moved off of the night shift. You had argued with Gloria about it for weeks, but each time she had remained firm.

“Shen is helping out Abbot now that he’s an attending. We don’t need you on as well. The day shift is short so you’ll be going there.”

“I have seniority over Shen,” You said tightly, “Move him to the day shift.”

“The decision is final. You’re back on day shift. I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

You and Robby had mostly avoided each other since your return. The two of you would exchange curt nods and talk strictly about cases. There were moments where you could almost see him contemplating saying more, but you always walked off before he could get a chance.

You didn’t want to talk about it. It was why you had switched to the night shift in the first place. He didn’t really want to talk about it either, you knew. He just wanted to clear his own conscience.

And today was the anniversary of when your life had begun to completely unravel. When it felt like the rug was ripped out from under your feet only to reveal you had never been on solid ground anyway. The day Adamson died.

Dana gave you a disappointed look as she watched you walk into Central that morning, “You shouldn’t be here today.”

“I shouldn’t be here at all,” You said, forcing a smile as you pulled your hair into a bun at the nape of your neck.

“Robby’ll be here today too, so. If you could be gentle?”

You scoffed, “Why is he working today?”

“Why are you working today?”

You clenched your jaw, “Where’s Abbot?”

“Getting some air.” She gave you a knowing look and you sighed.

“Okay, I will go handle that.”

“You sure?” She asked as you walked away, “Hard to talk someone off the ledge if you’re already there yourself.”

“Very funny!” You called back as you entered the stairwell.

***

It was a clear, sunny day outside. The sun had just risen over the skyline washing everything in a faint tangerine glow. The breeze blew stray strands of hair away from your face as you walked towards Jack.

He turned his head at the sound of your approach and once he recognized who it was, heaved a sigh, “Dana send you up here?”

“No. Maybe I just wanted to get some air before my shift.”

He gave a short laugh, “Right.”

You leaned against the railing as you looked out over the skyline, “Rough night?”

He was quiet for a moment, “Nights were easier when you were around.”

Your chest swelled at his admission. The last couple of years on the night shift had saved your life when being on the day shift constantly felt like being hit by a truck. It was nice to know that you had repaid at least a little of that back to Jack.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He paused and you watched him breathe. This wasn’t the first time you’d found Jack up here at the end of a shift. It kicked up your anxiety a notch, seeing him on the other side of the railing. You were clutching the stethoscope around your neck so that you wouldn’t reach for him and haul him back over.

You and Jack had known each other a long time. You knew he wouldn’t jump. Or at least, you were pretty certain he wouldn’t jump. It did nothing to slow your galloping heart.

“Have you patched things up with Robby?” He asked finally and you soured.

“Don’t you think it’s him that should be patching things up with me?”

“It’s been three years.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “And he still can barely look at me, let alone apologize.”

He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, “Either of you ever think about how fucked up it is that Dana and I have to treat you like our divorced parents who can’t be in the same room? I mean, we can’t even play cards on Friday nights anymore.”

You were beginning to get annoyed with this conversation. Did Jack think this was what you wanted? To have to dance around how badly Robby had hurt you? To pretend like everything was fine when the sound of his voice alone sent you into a spiral?

“I miss wiping the floor with you and taking all your money when we played cards, too. Now I have to buy beer with my own money,” You joked and saw his shoulders rise and fall marginally with a laugh, “You should take it up with Robby.”

“Believe me, I have.”

Just then, the door to the roof swung open and you turned at the sound to see Robby. He stopped short for a moment when he saw you standing there.

It pissed you off, the way your heart squeezed at the sight of him. The way that with just a glance alone you saw all over his face that today was fucking him up just as much as it was you. 

The way his hair was all mussed and sticking up, like he had been running his hands through it all day even though it was only 7 AM. His hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie. He hadn’t been sleeping, the bags under his eyes made that clear.

You turned back to Jack, trying to shake the urge to go to him. To hold him. Like you would have if it were just a few years ago, without question.

The way you always assumed he’d have you, too.

“Well, looks like now’s your chance to try again.” You pushed yourself off the railing, “See you downstairs.”

You brushed past Robby on your way to the door without meeting his gaze. You felt his eyes on you though, prying, practically begging you to look up.

But he’d have to try harder than that. And even then, you weren’t sure how to clear the thorny brambles that had grown and multiplied around the tomb of your friendship. 

You didn’t know if it were possible to ever look at him the way you used to, when you were a love struck intern and he was a senior resident, oblivious to your yearning. 

Or later, when you had managed to push those naive feelings down, accept your relationship for what it was, and he had turned into the only person in the world who could just glance at you and know what you were thinking.

You missed the ease of it, of not having to say what was on your mind. Of always having someone who would pick up the phone or come over without question. 

But that part of your life was over now and despite what Jack said, you weren’t sure Robby could fix it this time. Even if he tried. 

You were no longer sure if you even wanted him to.

***

The day started off fast and chaotic almost immediately, which was sort of a relief as it kept you from thinking about this particular date or Robby. He introduced you to the new med students and residents professionally, if with a little more affection in his voice than you were used to hearing as of late.

“If you need an attending and can’t find me or I’m busy, you can always tug on Dr. Y/N’s sleeve and she’ll take care of you.” His brown eyes landed on you, sparkling with admiration and nostalgia. You could practically see the film reel of your relationship playing behind his eyes and you had to look away, “She’s been here almost as long as I have. You’re very lucky to have her, take advantage of it.”

You smiled at them all and then made a beeline for the traumas that rolled in as soon as Robby had finished with his speech, grateful to have an excuse to not have to look or talk to him.

But then, as you were rolling the woman with the degloved foot into the trauma room, you felt his presence behind you, and the pressure of his warm hand on the small of your back.

“You got this?” He asked, voice low and too close. The warmth of his breath was far too close to your ear, to the sensitive skin of your throat.

You flinched and he dropped his hand.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You said without looking back at him and immediately you felt the loss of him when he walked away, familiar footfalls sounded behind you as he followed after the second trauma.

***

You should have noticed the med student, Javadi, was on the brink of passing out. She had looked a bit green from the second she had seen the patient's foot and you assumed the constant screaming had not helped.

“Med student down,” The new intern rolled her eyes as she fell.

“Shit,” You hissed and dropped low to the floor to look her over, “Javadi?” You said, placing a gloved hand to the side of her face. Thankfully, she stirred, “Can you stand?”

Almost immediately, she was blinking the disorientation out of her eyes and pushing herself up, “Hey, slowly,” You urged, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh my God, no, like, I’m totally fine. I don’t even know what happened. I must have tripped on the gurney. I’m fine!”

She pushed your hands away and started to stand, and you let her, though a smirk stayed on your face, “Javadi, you did not trip, I saw it, you passed out.”

“What?” She laughed nervously, “Oh my God, that’s crazy! That’s… No, I tripped.”

You bit your lip to hide the smirk and nodded, “Yeah, okay, either way why don’t we get you set up in the break room with a water or something? Just a precaution.”

“That’s not necessary,” She smiled, big eyes darting around nervously.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “I get it, really, but,” You lowered your voice, “Robby’s a bit of a hard ass about this kinda stuff so he’ll get really upset if he finds out I let you keep working after you… tripped.” You turned back to the patient. Collins seemed to be running the show, and running it well. “Collins, you okay if I step out?”

“Yeah, we’re good. I’ll call if we need you.”

Nodding, you ushered Javadi out into central, ignoring her protests as you did so.

“Robby,” You called when you saw him at the hub, glasses perched on his nose. He looked up in surprise at the sound of your voice. He couldn’t remember the last time you had sought him out. But then he frowned when he saw Javadi, one of the new med students, walking a few steps ahead of you, “She… fell and hit her head.”

“I’m fine,” Javadi said immediately, “I just tripped.”

You met Robby’s eyes over Javadi’s shoulder and gave a sharp shake of your head that had Robby fighting a smirk, “Okay, why don’t you go hang out in the break room for a bit. Eat a snack, drink some water.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” Javadi said.

“Oh, I know,” He took his glasses off, folding them and placing them in his pocket, “Hospital policy, though.”

Javadi stood there for a moment and you could see the battle waging in her body, deciding if she wanted to argue or not, but eventually, she started walking off.

“Other way,” Robby gently corrected when she went in the wrong direction, and you bit down on your lip as she walked by you again.

Then, you realized Robby was smiling at you. It took you aback, that gentle, tired smile on his face. The crinkles by his eyes and rosy cheeks. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long time, and certainly not when he was looking at you.

“What?” You asked, frowning.

He shrugged, “Just, reminds me of you when you were an intern, that’s all.” He said, gesturing in the direction Javadi had walked off to, “Something to prove and a nervous energy that could rival a cheetah. Not to mention taking a header on day one.”

Despite it all, you smirked, “I was not that nervous.”

“Oh, yes you were.” He nodded slowly, grin stretching so much, you can see teeth, “That’s at least half the reason you passed out in the first place.”

And it was really quite jarring, seeing him look at you fondly like that. Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest and your traitorous brain started pulling up snapshots of when he used to look at you like this. 

All the time. Several times a day, in fact. 

Like the time you passed out and hit your head on your first day as an intern.

You blinked the memory away and hoped you seemed unaffected, “Fine. Maybe I was,” You swallowed and turned to look towards the direction Javadi went, “I should go check on her.”

When you looked back at him, the smile was gone, replaced with disappointment. He wanted you to play with him, you realized, like you used to. But you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

When you began to walk away, he called your name. You swore it sounded hoarse, broken, coming from his lips, but thought you must be imagining things. You turned back.

“It’s… It’s really good to have you back.”

You’re not entirely sure why it irritates you, this whole interaction. Perhaps it just reminded you of everything you’d lost the last few years. Everything that had slipped between your fingers when you thought you had a firm grip on it. On him.

At any rate, you didn’t trust yourself to say anything you wouldn’t regret later, so you clenched your jaw and mock saluted him before turning on your heel and heading to the break room.

***

You were sweating so much, it was humiliating. You silently thanked whatever God there was that the scrubs for ER doctors at PTMC were black, otherwise, you knew the armpit stains would’ve been fucking otherworldly.

It was the first day of your residency and with every passing moment you felt more stupid and incompetent. Your hands shook, threatening to drop any and all sharps you handled. Your brain was sluggish and it felt like pulling teeth getting yourself to answer any questions Adamson or a senior resident called on you for. You knew the answers, but your brain would go frustratingly blank anytime you were put on the spot.

It hadn’t been like this during your med school rotations. You were sharp and clever, your recommendation letters proved that, but today you couldn’t seem to get your brain on board. The harder you tried, the worse it got, and the anxiety followed– along with the sweating.

Dr. Adamson and Dr. Robinavitch were explaining that the patient in front of you needed a chest tube, a procedure you were extremely familiar with. You had seen countless during your med school rotations, though you had never been allowed to do one yourself. 

“You’ve seen one before?” Dr. Robinavitch asked you from across the gurney.

You nodded, focusing only on the patient, the steps for a chest tube on repeat in your brain. You would not fuck this up. You would show them once and for all you belonged here, regardless of your previous stammering and shaky hands this morning.

“Okay, get gloved up then,” He said, “You’re up.”

You swallowed as a nurse opened up a pack of sterile gloves for you, conscious that Dr. Robinavitch was still speaking to you and Dr. Adamson was watching you. You couldn’t quite hear, though. The blood was pounding in your ears. Suddenly the fluorescent lights seemed a lot brighter and you were squinting under them. You couldn’t seem to pull enough air into your lungs and, shit, you felt lightheaded. You had managed to pull the gloves on and a nurse was holding out a ten blade to you, but you couldn’t get your hands to move. Your vision became spotty and you think you managed to mutter a, “so sorry,” before everything went dark.

When you came to, it was to the sound of his voice saying your name. Your first name, in fact, which you didn’t realize he had learned. His gloved hand was cradling your head and you could feel the warmth of his skin against your cheek.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

Your eyelids fluttered and then opened to the brightness of his pen light, “There you go,” He said softly and immediately you were flustered by the gentleness of his tone. His warm hands on you. The way he had said your name when you were halfway between consciousness, his voice like a rope meant to tether you, keep you here, with him. 

Fuck, fuck. You absolutely could not afford to have a crush on your senior resident. It was bad enough already that you had passed out on day one after absolutely blowing it all morning. 

“Is she alright?” You heard Dr. Adamson call from where he must be working on the patient.

“She seems fine,” He clicked off his penlight and gave you a reassuring smile, then his eyes darted up to your hairline and he frowned, “Though she does have a cut on her forehead.”

Sure enough, you felt the warm blood begin to trickle, carving a path down your skin.

“Why don’t you get her a bed and do a quick exam?” You heard Dr. Adamson say.

Immediately, you panicked, embarrassment flooding your whole body, “Oh, that’s okay, I’m fine, really–”

“If you won’t let Dr. Robby clear you, we’ll have to send you home.” Dr. Adamson said and you turned your attention back to the resident in front of you, who’s eyes looked apologetic now. He shrugged, as if to say, my hands are tied. “It’s your choice.” Adamson finished.

Humiliated, you sighed and let Robby help you to standing.You brushed him off after that, assuring him you could walk, and followed him to an empty bed where he gestured for you to sit down.

He grabbed a stool and wheeled it over to you before sitting and you had to remind yourself, again, that you could not fall for this man. Even if his hands were really gentle and his eyes were warm and attentive. 

“I don’t think you need stitches.” He said as he dabbed at the blood near your hairline, “The bleeding’s already slowing.”

You were looking anywhere but at him, both in an effort to calm the stirring in your stomach at his attention, and also because you were still humiliated.

“How are you feeling?” He asked when you didn’t say anything.

You shrugged, “I’m a little nauseous, but my head doesn’t hurt or anything. The lightheadedness has passed. I feel fine.”

He smirked, “I didn’t mean like that, I meant… emotionally.”

You looked at him, surprised, “I–I don’t–” You swallowed, “I skipped breakfast, it’s not–I’m not–”

“It’s okay that you’re a little anxious, it’s normal. It means you care.”

You swallowed and then shook your head, looking down at your hands, “I feel like all I’ve done all morning is screw up and everyone here’s probably wondering how I even matched because I’m such a dud–”

“Nobody thinks that.” He said quickly, “You’re smart and capable and you deserve to be here.”

Your stomach stirred again at his praise, “How would you know that? You’ve only known me a few hours and I’ve fumbled every opportunity.”

He was still smiling at you, dabbing lightly at the cut on your forehead, “You interviewed with Dr. Adamson before you matched, right?” You nodded, “He’s been doing this a pretty long time. Long enough to know with one conversation, and I assume, copious amounts of glowing recommendations, who is a good fit for the Pitt. So, if he thought you were good enough, then I can only assume that you are and will be an incredible doctor. So you’re having a shaky first day, so what?”

Your breathing seemed to slow at the encouragement of his words. He scooted a bit back on his stool and tilted his head to force eye contact with you, “You just have to keep trying. The anxiety will fade, likely before this shift is over. And I’ll be there every step of the way, we’ll get through it together, alright? What d’you say?”

There was no denying that you felt better, now. In med school it had felt like everyone in your cohort was rooting for everyone else to fail. The competitive energy had caused you to see every peer as a rival, rather than a friend. But was it possible that that was all over now? That you were allowed to lean on others for support and not worry they’d be hiding around the next corner with a knife poised to pierce your ribs?

He made you want to believe that, with his warm smile and supportive demeanor. Finally, you gave him a small smile, “Okay.”

***

You parked yourself in a chair across from Javadi, handing her a water bottle and a Clif bar. She seemed utterly miserable, perhaps even on the verge of tears.

“You okay?” You asked gently.

She rolled her eyes and then threw her hands up in exasperation, “We’re not even through the first hour and I’ve already fucked it up– Sorry!” She said immediately, eyes going wide at her curse.

You smirked, “You didn’t fuck anything up. A degloving is a pretty gnarly injury. It’s pretty rare, actually. In all my time here I could probably count on one hand how many I’ve seen. And they never get more fun to look at.”

“Yeah, well, easy for you to say. I bet you’ve never passed out while looking at one.”

Your smile widened, “I can do you one better, actually. Passed out cold on the first day of my residency when I was asked to do a chest tube.”

Her eyes widened, “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “I had had such a bad morning, I just… couldn’t get my brain to keep up with everything that was happening. I blanked every time I was asked something. My hands were shaky any time I tried to assist with a procedure. And so when Dr. Robby told me they wanted me to do a chest tube, I just… I got the gloves on and then I collapsed. It was humiliating.”

“Oh, wow,” She took a bite from the Clif bar, “That’s really bad.”

“Yeah,” You laughed, “Yeah, I thought so, too. But, I’m still here and I think I’m doing okay.”

“How did you… How did you get over it? Not let it derail your whole day?”

Your thoughts drifted to Robby, his kindness and attentiveness that first day. And all the days after. The way he had made you feel like you could do anything, pull off any procedure, just because he believed in you. 

You cleared your throat, and with it, the memories, “You just keep reminding yourself that there’s a reason you’re here. That you worked hard to be here and you’re capable because of it. You’ll fuck it up again, but you learn and you get better. And there are some really, really great people around here who’ll pick you up the next time you fall. We’re all rooting for you. Not against you. So ask for help when you need it. Okay?”

She nodded and you stood, “Drink at least half that water bottle before you jump back in. Ask Robby where he needs you when you’re done.”

“Thank you,” She said sweetly.

You smiled, “Anytime.” 

***

Robby had thought when he asked Gloria to move you to the day shift that things would immediately be resolved. That maybe you’d unintentionally fall back into old habits, finishing each other’s jokes, always running to the other person for a second pair of eyes on a patient, always knowing when the other was stepping out onto a tightrope with no net beneath to catch them. Knowing how to set up the net beneath them without the other noticing.

He didn’t think it’d be so hard to find ways to talk to you and he didn’t think you’d work so hard to avoid him. 

He missed you and had missed you at every shift since you had left, but didn’t know how to tell you. Frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to tell you. Still didn’t. But the hole in him that you left had only grown tenfold over the years, rather than shrinking, like he thought it would. Until he had to accept that not having you in his life was no longer an option for him. Dana had taken to reminding him almost weekly how insufferable he’d become since you had left.

It wasn’t like he had been completely pleasant before you had left. He had still been grieving Adamson and all of them had been adjusting to the pandemic’s impact on the ER. Not to mention, he was still adjusting to being the head of the ER, of doing everything Adamson had used to handle.

But at least, when you had been there, there had still been some familiarity. Everything had changed so fast between the pandemic and Adamson’s death, but you had been the one constant. The one shred of comfort he’d been able to hold on to through all the bullshit. The reminder that things hadn’t always been so terrible here, that they could be good.

Until he went and fucked that up, too.

He had pushed you away over and over again when you tried to help, to grieve with him. You tried to talk about it and he’d snap at you. He didn’t want to relive it, thought he could just shove it down and move past it. But you needed to talk about it, for your own sake. Had begged him, in fact, to talk about it.

“You’re not the only one who lost him, you know? I loved him too!”

He remembered the way you’d cried that night. How he held you after, apologizing. Swearing he’d do better, that they could talk about it. That he’d go to a grief counselor with you.

And then it all played on repeat over and over, the same music, the same twisted dance, once beautiful and graceful, now poisoned with grief and resentment.

Promises that were broken almost immediately, heated arguments in the ambulance bay on their breaks, the silent treatment given during shifts, him crawling back to your door every night. I’m sorry, just let me crawl into bed, just one more night, please, I need you, I can’t do it by myself. 

And he watched, night after night, how he broke you. How you got out of bed in the middle of the night to cry alone in the bathroom. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but he was barely getting any sleep those nights. He heard just fine. 

You’d crawl back in bed, breathing still shuddering from the residual sobs, and he’d kiss your bare shoulders and up your neck. You’d push yourself back into him and still, there was no talking, just the desperate thrust of his hips into yours, and when he came inside you, night after night, he would find himself disappointed each time when it didn’t fix things. When it wasn’t enough, even though it was all he could manage to give. 

Then there was Heather.

At the time, he couldn’t understand what had compelled him to pursue Heather. Though now, he could recognize it was because she had reminded him of you. A version of you that hadn’t been ravaged by grief. The version of you who had made him feel like he was good at this, like it was all worth it. Heather made him feel like that, how you had when you were a resident. It helped him forget all the rest. Most of the time.

In the cloud of his own grief, it didn’t seem to matter much what you would think. And the two of you weren’t dating. Had never dated and would never date. In the many years of occasionally sleeping together, you had never talked about it. Only once, just after the first time, when you were still a resident and he was an attending. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

It was all he had said while the two of you got dressed again. You had paused for a second while pulling a shirt over your head, but then had nodded. You never said anything else on the matter.

He supposed it was naive of him to think that it wouldn’t hurt you when he started seeing Heather. But the two of you had always seen other people in the midst of your informal arrangement. And you would go months, sometimes years, never falling back into the other. At the core of everything, you were always friends. Best friends.

He thought this would be the same. 

He saw the way you froze and the way your face fell when you walked out to the ambulance bay to find him pushing Heather against the wall and kissing her. He tried to follow after you, but you insisted it was fine. He knew it wasn’t fine, could tell from the look on your face and the way your voice shook. But frankly, he didn’t have the capacity to do anything about it.

After you had found out, it took you just two weeks before you requested the move to the night shift. And then he lost it. He called you repeatedly, showed up at your door, tried anything and everything to get your attention, to force you to talk to him. To beg for your forgiveness. None of it worked. You didn’t return any of his calls and pretended you didn’t hear him at your door.

He even asked Jack to tell Gloria that he didn’t want or need the extra help.

But Jack had just shaken his head sadly, “Don’t ask me to do that to her, brother. She’s my friend too.”

When it didn’t work out with Heather, he wasn’t surprised, but there was a small voice in his head that reminded him every so often that he had ruined everything for nothing.

He knew you would be pissed when you found out it was him who got you moved back to the day shift, but he couldn’t regret it. Even though things still weren’t normal between you, there was something very comforting about the fact that you were around, in the same orbit as him again. 

It was selfish of him to bring you back to the day shift, but he didn’t know how else to fix things. And Abbot had confirmed you weren’t happy, were no more healed than when you first left. You had taken to pushing it all down and ignoring it, like he had.

He couldn’t have that. Couldn’t watch you turn into him and do nothing about it. So you could be pissed when you found out, that was fine. He would fix it. He could fix it.

***

You felt Robby’s eyes on you all morning. And in turn, when he wasn’t looking at you, you were looking for him. Unfortunately, the instinct to care and look out for Robby had not been smothered completely as you had initially hoped.

As soon as you overheard him talking to the children of the man who had come in, clearly sceptic and struggling to breathe, you wondered if you should step in and take over. It wasn’t difficult to make the connection to Adamson, especially today. You thought about him often whenever you had a patient with pneumonia, when you had to intubate in those cases.

So when he was free, you started to make your way over to speak to him–

But were beaten to it by Heather. 

You had nothing against Heather, truly. In fact, when you were able to look at her and not see Robby shoving her up against a wall, you liked her very much. It was just another thing Robby had taken from you, the opportunity to be Heather’s friend.

Nevertheless, seeing her try to intervene on this case the same way you would have, sent an ache through you. 

“You know they’re not together anymore, right?” Dana said next to you, eyes on her iPad.

It had irritated you at times, how easily she was able to read you, “I know. Doesn’t really change the fact that he replaced me with her.”

Dana looked up at that, “Is that what you think?”

You scoffed, “Look at them. I mean, I’m not blind.”

Dana smirked and looked back down at her iPad, “If that were true, why would he have asked Gloria to move you back to the day shift?”

You stiffened and turned to Dana slowly, “He what?” You asked breathlessly.

She looked up again and examined your change in posture, “Oh,” She sighed, “You didn’t know.”

You turned to look back at him and Heather, and slowly shook your head, laughing in disbelief, “Of course he did. Of course!”

“Come on, kid, give him a break–”

“Dana,” You said, more sharply than you wanted to, “I love you, but I–” You sighed heavily, “Please, just this once, please don’t defend him.”

She sighed and wrapped an arm around you, but then you saw Robby walking towards the two of you and you took off without saying anything. You couldn’t bear to be near him right now. 

Robby frowned when he reached Dana, staring after you, “What was that about?”

She glared at him, “You didn’t tell her it was you who requested she be brought back to day shift?”

Robby sighed and ran a hand over his beard, “You told her?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret.”

He nodded and crossed his arms, looking down towards the ground, “It’s fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“Yeah,” Dana gave a short laugh and began walking away, “You do that.”

***

It was warm out that night three years ago and the first night anyone could remember in a long time that felt almost normal, almost like before the pandemic. With the rollout of the vaccine in the New Year, the constant vigilance was beginning to wane, but only just. But everyone had decided after the last year, they could afford a single night of normalcy with the lifting of most of the restrictions and mask mandates. They had chosen a bar with an outdoor patio and bar, erring on the side of caution, just in case.

You were at a corner table with Jack, on the far side of the patio, squeezing your beer bottle so tightly in your fist, Jack was beginning to grow concerned it would shatter in your hand. Your gaze was fixed across the room on Robby and Heather, Robby’s hand low on her back as she laughed at something he had said. It had been about a week since you had seen them kissing in the ambulance bay and each day since then had become increasingly more difficult.

“You gonna torture yourself all night?” Jack asked, his gaze following yours.

Reluctantly, you tore your eyes from them and back to Jack, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been torturing myself for ten plus years or something.”

He tilted his head and one corner of his lips turned up just slightly, “You ever tell him how you feel?”

You barked a laugh and took a sip of your beer, “Right. As if he doesn’t already know.”

Jack shrugged, “He's pretty terrible at picking up on that sort of thing. And besides, it’s not like you haven’t dated anyone in the last ten or so years.”

It was true, you had tried dating other men. But never for very long. It always became evident that you would choose Robby over any of them, no matter how badly you wished it wasn’t true.

And Robby had dated many women over the years. It had always bothered you, but never as much as this. When it felt like he was copying and pasting your younger, less jaded self. 

But maybe you were self-aggrandizing. After all, even though everyone in the ER had seemed to pick up on the something going on between the two of you, he had never been so publicly affectionate with you. Maybe it wasn’t about you at all. Maybe he actually loved her.

You shook your head, “He knows how I feel.” Your brain floated backwards, pulling the last few weeks to the surface. The fighting and the begging and the way he always knew you would let him back into your bed. He knew. He had to.

“So, what now, then?” Jack asked.

You turned to look at him, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “Doesn’t seem healthy for it to continue like this, especially when you’re still grieving Adamson. So what’re you gonna do?”

You leaned back in your chair, shoulder leaning against Jack’s, and looked back to Robby and Heather who were now kissing. You were assaulted with a memory from just a month ago when you had held him, cradled his head to your chest as he cried in your entryway. Afterward, he had fucked you, tender and then desperate, bent you over your kitchen table. 

Now his tongue was down somebody else’s throat. Swallowing hard, you turned back to Jack.

“I don’t know.” You said, and the sentence brought tears to your eyes, “If I could figure out some way to stop feeling like this about him, I would’ve done it by now. I would give anything not to feel like this anymore.”

Jack sighed and then pulled you into his chest, a hand on the back of your neck, “It’s alright,” He murmured into your hair, “You’re gonna be alright.”

You pulled away slightly, looking up into his hazel eyes. Why couldn’t you love this man instead? The one who went to therapy and could read people from a mile away. Jack would’ve known you were in love with him immediately and either would have created a boundary if he didn’t feel the same or have loved you unabashedly. He would never have left you in this emotional purgatory, never sure how he felt from one day to the next.

It’s this drunken line of thought that has you leaning up and into him, eyes darting at the last second towards Robby to see if he was watching.

Jack pulled away, eyes still gentle, almost pitying as he shook his head, “If you’re looking to piss him off, it won’t be with me, kid. I’m sorry.”

Oh, it wasn’t fair. You couldn’t have anything because of Robby. Again and again you thought of the resident who had fallen in love with him and hated her a little more. You wished you could go back and send her on a different path. Any one, just not this one. 

You felt like a petulant child, and maybe the whole thing was complicated by the grief, maybe it was why you had reverted to such immature pettiness, but you hated Robby for it. And you hated yourself.

Your face crumpled, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, tears caught and strangled your voice, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Shhh,” Jack slid out of his chair, “It’s okay, come on, let’s get you out before he sees you, okay?” He came around to your side and gently hauled you up, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you towards the exit.

Neither of you noticed how Robby stared after you both, jaw clenched. He was fairly certain the arm around your waist was platonic, but it had his hackles raising anyway. And then he was annoyed with himself for feeling that way. You could date or sleep with whoever you wanted, that had always been the understanding between the two of you. Even if that someone turned out to be his best friend.

But you had never been with someone he had felt truly threatened by. But Jack… Jack could sweep you off your feet, no question.

And fuck, you deserved that, someone who would treat you right. Love you in a way he didn’t think he would ever be capable of. So did Jack. If the two of you fell in love, he could be happy for you. 

Just not tonight.

Against his better judgment, he followed you both beyond the patio, to the front of the bar where it was quieter. 

The sight of the two of you entangled made him feel sick immediately. Irrationally, he wanted to reach for you, pull you away from him—

But then he heard you crying. Jack still had an arm around your waist, his other hand gently cradling your head to his shoulder. He was whispering things to you that Robby couldn’t hear as you cried.

Instinctually, he wanted to help. He had held you while you cried more times than he could count, and you had done the same for him. He couldn’t fathom that you could be crying like this and not running to you. It was what the two of you had always done, held the pieces together when the other was falling apart.

But as he took a step forward, Jack locked eyes with him and gave a short shake of his head. Don’t.

And then he realized, this was because of him. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, shouldn’t have stung. You hadn’t really been speaking to him since you found out about Heather. He assumed, like everything else, that it would ease with time. 

But now you were seeking comfort in Jack’s arms, and not his. 

He took a few careful steps backwards, the wrongness of it all felt like a shard of glass had been wedged into his chest. He was heading back to the bar, but you were out here, falling apart. 

He ordered another drink, dismissed Heather when she asked if everything was okay. Pulling out his phone, he typed a text out to Jack: You’ll make sure she gets home safe?

Jack sent back a thumbs up emoji just a minute later. But it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest.

You leaned your head against the cool glass window in Jack’s truck as he drove you home, the quiet lull of the radio the only sound. 

He walked you all the way up to your door, even though you insisted it wasn’t necessary, and then wrapped you up in his arms again. You inhaled a shaky breath and rested your head on his shoulder.

“You can call me, whenever, you know?” He said, “Robby’s not the only one who cares about you.”

You could hear the worry in his voice. You knew you were acting erratically at work. No patients had ever been endangered, but you weren’t yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself. The loss of Adamson had fundamentally changed you in ways you couldn’t come back from, but that didn’t stop you from wishing you could rewind the tape back. You ended more shifts than not on the roof, on the wrong side of the railing. 

Robby had extubated Adamson, but it was you who had convinced him to. Had begged him to with tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want to watch Adamson die, but you couldn’t be responsible for losing another little girl. Couldn’t have it on your conscience that Adamson had been on the ECMO for seventeen days with no hope for recovery while a child was waiting on it. You knew Adamson would have made the same choice, but Robby had looked at you with such hopelessness on his face, even as he agreed. 

Agreed because he knew, even though you hadn’t said it, you were thinking of your niece when you looked at that little girl. Your goddaughter that you couldn’t save years ago, the loss that had existentially altered the way you saw your career. The grief that only Robby had been able to pull you out of by the skin of his teeth.

Then that little girl had died too and you had gone to the roof to scream. Cursed cosmic forces, God, or whomever who had allowed it all to happen. You couldn’t bear it, Adamson, the way that girl had looked just like your niece when you extubated her, her mother’s screams over the phone resonating just like your sister’s. The grief felt like a monster clawing its way out of your chest. And Robby had followed you up, trapped you against his chest as you both shook with sobs.

Robby’s not the only one who cares about you.

Sure, logically, you could wrap your head around that fact. But he had been the only one who was there for those losses. Had held you through them and watched the aftermath as you slowly imploded.

And it seemed he had decided it was too much. After everything the two of you had been through together, he couldn’t see you through this one. He didn’t want to.

Maybe Robby wasn’t the only person who cared about you. Maybe Jack and Dana loved you too. But they hadn’t seen the worst of you and then decided to walk away. Maybe if they had, they would make the same choices he had.

But you gave Jack a watery smile anyway, “I know.” 

***

“Doctor Y/N, do you have a second?” Robby’s voice came from the threshold of your patient’s room. He leaned against the door frame, lightly tapping it with his fist as he smiled at the patient.

You forced a smile for your patient, “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you were out the door, he was steering you by the shoulders into a patient’s room and closing the door behind you. 

You pretended to be unaffected by his touch. It was the first time you had been alone with him since returning to the day shift and you wondered if he could see the longing warring with the anger on your face.

“Look,” He started, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m sorry that I asked Gloria to move you here. We are short staffed and she offered me Shen,” He shook his head, “If you were me could you tell me that you would have picked Shen over you?”

You hated the way that tugged a smirk at the corner of your mouth. Shen was a great doctor, but his whole vibe and attitude had unsettled both you and Robby. It was something you had joked about when he was still a resident, that his energy was created in a lab specifically for the night shift. But you shook it off.

“You knew being here would hurt me and you did it anyway.”

He scoffed, “What would you have me do? You don’t answer my calls, you ignore me at shift change, am I just supposed to accept that this is it? After everything, this is how it’ll always be between us from now on?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with that when you and Heather were together.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands along his cheeks to the back of his neck, “And what about you, huh?” He asked quietly.

You sighed, “What about me?”

“You went home with Jack that night, did you sleep in his bed?”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“That night at the bar. Three years ago, right before you switched to the night shift.”

Slowly, it came into focus. Robby and Collins kissing at the bar. Your tearful conversation with Jack. The way you had tried to kiss him. Him walking you out, an arm around your waist.

Your laugh came out sharp and jagged, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He continued to stare at you and you gaped at him, “No,” You said bitterly, “Not that it would be any of your fucking business if I had.”

“Well apparently Heather and I were your business seeing as you unilaterally decided to end our friendship over it.”

You closed your eyes, pretended that every word coming out of his mouth didn’t feel like a punch in the gut to you, “If you still can’t understand why that hurt me so badly,” You said, slow and soft, “Then I have nothing more to say to you.”

You sidestepped him and left the room before he could stop you, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Dana watched from across the way as you stormed away, Robby following shortly after, staring longingly after you, jaw clenched. She walked over to Robby and put a gentle hand on his arm, not saying anything.

“She hates me.” He said.

Dana blew out a long breath between her lips, “You wanna know my advice?” Robby turned to her, sad eyes in full swing, “Keep trying. She’s scared to let you in again. She thinks you’ve replaced her with Collins.”

“What?” He laughed, “She said that?” Dana nodded and he shook his head, mouth gaping open, “That’s ridiculous.”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He hadn’t consciously tried to replace you, it wasn’t possible to. The years of history between you both were insurmountable. The relationship was so convoluted and tangled it couldn’t be replicated. But now that Dana had said it, it wasn’t hard to see how you had connected those dots, regardless of what he had intended.

“Keep trying,” Dana repeated and lightly squeezed his arm before walking off.

***

When you saw the nurses wheeling Mr. Spencer, Robby’s pneumonia patient, towards pedes, your breath caught painfully in your throat. Without thinking, you walked over to Dana, “Where are they bringing Mr. Spencer?”

“Pedes, why?” She took off her glasses as she looked up from her iPad.

You swallowed, “Robby’s still on that case?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck. He had already handled the overdose teen, something you knew wasn’t easy for him because of Jake. He had intubated Mr. Spencer even though he knew it wouldn’t save him. Now you could only assume he’d have to extubate in the same room he had extubated Adamson.

“Where is he?”

“Who? Robby?” You nodded, “I think he’s with the parents of the overdose teen.”

“Thanks,” You said and then headed for him. 

It was ridiculous, you knew, the way you were running back to him. Less than two hours after your argument. You wanted to hold on to your anger because you were afraid of what was underneath it, but you didn’t want to watch him fall apart, either. And despite it all, you knew he’d have your back in the same way. Today and everyday. 

“Robby,” His name came out frantic as you watched him walk out of an exam room, turning to the hand sanitizer dispenser. He looked up at you, question in his eyes as he rubbed the sanitizer into his hands, “Uh, Mr. Spencer. Could I take over his case?” 

The words came out rushed and breathless. He tilted his head in question, “I already have an established relationship with his family and they’re having a tough enough time with the end of life care. Why do you want him?”

You opened your mouth to speak, prepared to come up with some lie, some excuse, but found you couldn’t do it, “They moved him to pedes.” You said softly, “I just, um,” You sighed, “I thought I could handle the extubation for you.”

When you looked up at him, his eyes had softened. You again noticed how he hadn’t been sleeping, how his eyes seemed almost permanently red rimmed. And now, besides the sadness and the grief that always seemed to be there when he looked at you, there was what looked like a tinge of relief.

He gave you a sad smile, “It’s okay,” He said softly, “I got it.” 

And then he sidestepped you, walking towards pedes. You followed, feeling desperate to stop this. Stop it like you hadn’t been able or willing to four years ago. You hadn’t volunteered yourself to extubate Adamson, though, you doubted Robby would have let you then either. You still wish you had tried to protect him from that. Even if it would have broken you, maybe one of you would have gotten out unscathed.

But that wasn’t true either, no matter how badly you wished for it. There was no alternate dimension where you and Robby left that day intact, unharmed.

“What if…” You lengthened your strides to keep up with him, “What if I extubated while you were in the room? With the family?”

He slowed to a stop and turned back to you, causing you to nearly collide with his chest, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” He said gently, “Really, but it’s okay. I can do it by myself.”

“What if I just stand in the room then?”

“You should be seeing other patients.”

You shook your head, “This is where I need to be right now. The patients can wait a few minutes. There are plenty of residents to attend to them.” He looked like he was going to say no again. “Please.” You said, desperately, “You wanted me here, so I’m here. Let me help you.”

That seemed to catch his attention and his eyes locked back on yours. He searched your face for a moment, eyes lingering too long on your mouth before they travelled back up, “Okay.” He started walking again, “You can stand in the room.”

The relief you feel that he accepted your help is short lived, because now you’re standing in pedes, a place you had somehow mostly managed to avoid since Adamson, and you can’t seem to pull enough air into your lungs. 

You lace your hands together behind your back as you listen to Robby and Mr. Spencer’s children speak. 

But you’re not really here, you’re back four years ago, sitting at Adamson’s bedside, Robby beside you. The inside of the PPE is suffocating and sweaty with the tears streaming down your face and snot dripping out your nose. One gloved hand holds Adamson’s hand, the other holds Robby’s, the heat from your hands feeding through the gloves. You’re squeezing Robby’s hand repeatedly, needing him to squeeze back so you know he’s still there, still breathing. Because even then, you knew this may push him far away from you. 

You blink and Robby’s face is in front of yours, no PPE, just watery eyes and calloused hands on your cheeks, “You okay?”

In a moment of weakness, you leaned into his touch, closed your eyes and nodded. He stays like that for a moment before dropping his hands and standing next to you, shoulders touching.

Listening to Mr. Spencer’s rattled breathing, you slide your hand down Robby’s arm and intertwined your fingers. You heard Robby’s sharp intake of breath.

After a moment, he squeezed your hand.